Chapter 42: A Gift
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Two weeks after the accident that shattered the future of Jordan and Aleksei, a package was delivered by Federal Express to Dee's residence addressed to Jordan. Dee signed the ever-present electronic clipboard and thanked the driver as she accepted the package and closed the door. "Jordan, a package just arrived for you," Dee called walking through the small living room and up the stairs toward the bedroom that Jordan occupied.
The door lay partially open, allowing only a thin stream of light from the hallway into the room, it's glowing touch missing the small figure that lay curled on the bed, covered with a down comforter. Dee glanced through the opening, shaking her head in concern and knocked softly against the gleaming white wood. "Jordan, something came for you. Federal Express just delivered it."
"Thanks, Dee. Just set it on the table please," Jordan responded quietly, without emotion.
Dee pushed the door open and moved to sit beside Jordan on the bed, pushing the tangled coppery curls from her cheeks and looking into her pale face. "Aren't you even a little curious what it might be?" Dee asked, waving the small package before her.
"Not now, maybe later," Jordan answered, pulling the comforter higher over her shoulder but not before Dee caught a glimpse of the sweater she was wearing that had belonged to Aleksei.
"I think you should see what it is now," Dee suggested, concern etching her eyes.
"What's the big deal? It will still be there tomorrow if I don't get to it this minute," Jordan mumbled, snuggling deeper into the comforter.
Dee groaned in frustration. Jordan hadn't left the house in the two weeks since the funeral, and worse, hadn't left her room for the past three days. Dee was worried about her health, both physically and mentally and wasn't ready to call in the professionals just yet. But her ideas were dwindling as to how to start a fire under Jordan and get her back to the business of living. Dee was the first one to admit that their lives were certainly different. There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't think about Aleksei. She'd find herself listening to music and begin planning their next program, only to suddenly realize there would be no more programs for the two of them. Their time and magic had ended sooner than anyone could have imagined, and despite the unfairness of it, it was time to start slowly moving forward. So far, Jordan was refusing to even attempt that first step, and Dee was growing concerned. Even Whittaker had commented on Jordan's loss of weight, and general loss of interest in everything. And now, as Dee looked at the small figure huddled beneath the huge comforter wearing her dead partner's sweater, she decided the time had come to force Jordan back into the living world, whether she wanted to be there or not.
"Fine, I'll open it," Dee stated, tearing the tape and opening the square box to reveal an unmarked videotape and small folded note. Dee unfolded the note and began to silently read the neatly written words before her, gasping in shock as the words before her sank in, her eyes filling with tears and blurring the contents of the note. "Dear, God..." she whispered, her fingers covering her lips to still their quivering.
Jordan heard Dee's shocked plea and slowly raised to her elbows, the comforter sliding down to her waist, the huge sweater swallowing up her petite frame. "What's wrong?" Jordan asked fearfully, her eyes wide and deep green.
Dee didn't answer. She handed Jordan the note, picked up the tape and walked the short distance to push it into the VCR, turned on the TV and walked back to sit on the bed beside Jordan, placing the remote in Jordan's lap.
Jordan watched Dee's trek to the TV and back and glanced in confusion at Dee's stunned expression, the note still unread in her hand. "Dee?"
"Read the note," Dee stated softly.
Jordan cast a final questioning glance at Dee and encouraged by Dee's nod of approval, turned her eyes toward the flowery sheet of paper and neatly written words that flowed across it's surface. It read:
Dear Ms. Jamison,
Words can never express our sadness at the loss of your partner, Aleksei Rocmanov. You probably don't even remember us - our meeting was so brief -and when I remind you of it, we hope it will not bring additional sadness to you for we met only moments before your accident. On a day that became so harrowing, we wouldn't blame you if you had forgotten meeting an old married couple in a diner. Surely, we ourselves, have met people briefly, and forgotten them soon after. But we wanted you to know how very special that brief encounter was to us, and wish you gentle, quiet days in which to heal your broken heart and soul.
We hope you will not think badly of us, but enclosed is a videotape which we hope will bring you a small amount of comfort. It was taken only days before of a pair of skaters we happened to see skating on the pond near our home. We did not know who they were, but we were entranced by the beauty of their skating, and the obvious love they shared for one another. Little did we know, those skaters would turn out to be you and Aleksei. We thought it was only right that you have this tape of the final performance of Jamison and Rocmanov. The memory of the beauty you shared with us will remain with us forever.
Thank you for your gift and may God bless you and keep you safe.
Most sincerely,
Nora and William Harrison
Jordan brushed the tears from her cheeks, her vision blurred and looked at Dee in disbelief. "How can this be?"
Dee shrugged and offered the remote to Jordan. "I don't know. Maybe one last gift from Aleksei," Dee suggested softly.
Jordan looked at the remote, apprehension clear in her dark green eyes. "I don't know if I can do this."
"Do you want me to leave?" Dee asked.
"No," Jordan answered firmly, shaking her head from side to side; her hands shaking as she started to reach for the remote then pulled back. "I'm afraid of what I'll see," her voice whispered.
Dee stroked her cheek, her thumb brushing away newly fallen tears. "What you're afraid of is admitting what you've lost. This is a gift, Jordan, a gift most people would kill for. A last look at everything that was good, and happy between two people in love. Don't fear it, sweetheart, cherish it and know that you'll always have this final glimpse into the beauty and wonder that was Jamison and Rocmanov."
Jordan remained silent, her eyes closed as she struggled to still her fears and find the courage to face what lay before her. Moments later, she opened her eyes and Dee recognized the faint glimmer of determination in their green depths. "Are you ready?" Jordan asked quietly.
"Whenever you are," Dee agreed and held out her hand to Jordan. Their fingers slid together and held tightly as Jordan pushed the PLAY button on the remote and the TV/VCR combo came to life, the screen filling with the clear images of the final performance of Jordan Jamison and Aleksei Rocmanov.
Text Copyright © 2000 by Constance E. Moynihan
